Fighting back
by Andromeda of Othrys
Summary: One of Harry's most memorable quotes in OotP movie: "It's like Hogwarts wants us to fight back!" What if he meant it quite, quite literally? Hogwarts may be a castle, but she can definitely show her displeasure with certain people *cough* Toad *cough*, and those in the know just enjoy the show.


**This themed is for the Slytherin House, prompt being Lost in Hogwarts -2,421 words**

 **Addtional A/N: I don't touch a lot upon it, due to the restriction of the prompt and theme, but I'm using the Harry-can-speak-to-Hogwarts idea**

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It was probably the only place Dolores had never wanted to return to, but in the name of the plan Cornelius had made, she was ready to make sacrifices. The perks she had gotten with being named a teacher, then later High Inquisitor did bring some small sense of satisfaction, but it wasn't enough to negate her biggest issue with Hogwarts, which was coincidentally its signature mark.

Chaos.

Dolores _hated_ chaos. Her weak father — may his soul never return from the dead — had managed to teach her a lesson she never forgot: _order is the only way of life that will make you prosper._ It was solely due to that lesson that Dolores had shot up the ranks in the Ministry the way she did and remained in her position as the Senior Undersecretary. Hogwarts, on the other hand, was chaos incarnate: from its moving staircases and its trick steps to its grouchy portraits and its unruly students, it represented nothing but torture to Dolores.

As a student, she held the undesirable record for being _that_ firstie who always got lost and was inevitably near-late or actually late for her classes. Even when she got used to the chaotic surroundings later on, she chafed under the strain of always trying to be with someone, lest she get lost in the veritable labyrinth of corridors and passages. She _hated_ playing the third wheel, always needing someone to make her look great, even if she recognized the use of that tactic.

As a teacher, she had found Hogwarts' hospitality towards her had not changed: she would still get turned around on occasion, and the staircases still liked to move at the most inopportune of times. That fact grated on her nerves, particularly after witnessing Terror Twins and Potter more or less disappear in one place and reappear only minutes later on the completely different end of the castle. Merlin, even her _colleagues_ had that ability!

Speaking of Potter, the little lying menace was coming right up to her looking rather lost, his Granger-and-Weasley posse curiously absent from his side.

"Mr. Potter!" she called in the voice her former colleague Angela Shafiq called 'poisoned honey'. The boy winced and looked up.

"Yes, Professor?" The title sent a little thrill through her, despite the fact she had been hearing it for two months.

"Why are you not at the dinner?"

Potter scratched the back of his head. "Um, I'm already done, Professor," he admitted.

"Then, why are you not in your Common Room?" she asked, enjoying the mulish look in Potter's eyes.

"I need some books to finish my Potions essay, Professor."

Unfortunately, Dolores could find no fault with the excuse, and the library _was_ only a corridor away.

"Very well. You know the curfew, Mr. Potter." With that, she strode away, deciding she would check on him in ten minutes - just in case he decides to stir up some trouble. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Potter leaning on the wall, eyes closed and unsettling smile on his face. _Make that five minutes_ , she mentally noted to herself.

As she walked down the stairs that would lead her to the second floor, the staircase moved so violently, she nearly fell off. When she managed to right herself, she found herself at the beginning of a corridor she could've sworn never existed before. She should know, she'd done numerous patrols in this area due to the Weasley twins!

Dolores set off, walking practically on her tiptoes and jumping at the every little noise. Despite her constant vigilance, she somehow managed to get herself in the middle of the white, opaque fog she could not get out of.

"Argh!" she screamed, stomping her foot down, fruitlessly trying to orientate herself. "Where am I?!"

"In Hogwarts of course, Professor Umbridge," an airy female voice floated over to her. A blonde, fourth year Ravenclaw — Lara? Lina? — skipped over to her. "Are you lost?"

Dolores bit her lip, unwilling to admit that she had no idea how to get out of the fog.

"No!" DADA professor barked, then stopped. How…? "Are you not lost in this fog?"

Lina/Lara's blue eyes widened. "Fog, Professor? Is it golden, like the sunrise?"

Dolores exhaled slowly, trying to suppress the urge to hex the little brat. "No! It's white, and all over the place - how can't you see it?"

Lina/Lara blinked. "There is no fog here, Professor, but I see a swarm of Nargles around you."

Dolores paused, unsure how exactly to answer that statement. Or, more accurately, how to deduct points. The girl had to be mocking her. On the other hand, she had to get to the library and check on the Potter… She smiled down at the dreamy blonde girl as one would smile down at a toddler, then said, her voice sickeningly sweet, "Dear, would you point me in the direction of the library?"

Lina/Lara tilted her head. "I'm not sure I should, Madam. The white fog can be a sign of a great tragedy yet to come - maybe the Fate is warning you against going to the library."

Dolores was _this_ close to screaming. She leaned over the diminutive girl and said through gritted teeth, "Tell me where the library is. Or else."

"The Nargles are really swarming you," the girl noted, taking a step back. "The library is down the corridor and up the spiral staircase."

 _Finally, a straight answer!_ Dolores almost ran in her haste, her every hurried step echoing in the deserted corridor; when she burst onto the spiral staircase that ended right next to the library doors, she was panting but feeling extremely happy with herself. She'd finally found her way. And she got to the library just before curfew. Time to check on Potter.

"Hello, Professor," the Longbottom boy called as he exited the library, deftly dodging her mid-step.

Dolores began to brush past him, but then she remembered that this spineless boy was in Harry's year, and a Gryffindor to boot. "Longbottom," she snapped. "Where's Potter?"

"Harry?" Longbottom frowned. "Probably in the Common Room, or in the dormitory. Why?"

Dolores was suddenly suspicious, and cast a _Tempus_ charm. Just as she had thought: she had spent only fifteen minutes away from the library.

"I wondered if you'd seen him in the library. He seemed… strange. Almost lost."

A flash of surprise then understanding passed over Longbottom's face, and he smiled serenely at her.

"Don't worry about Harry, Professor. He can never get lost in Hogwarts - it's like the bloody castle opens paths just for him! And no, he wasn't at the library - I was there for the last half an hour, and he never came in."

Dolores was now _very_ suspicious. The boy must have lied to her - it was nothing new, and she would punish him for that later - but how in the name of Merlin would she find him and execute her punishment? She couldn't assign the detention without the student present. Except in case…

Dolores grimaced. Minerva McGonagall was not one of the colleagues she liked interacting with - partly due to her title of the Head of the Gryffindor House, partly due to the fact she was one of the most stalwart Dumbledore supporters. Right now, however, she needed to lodge a complaint with her to get the Potter boy in the detention… although recently she started contemplating upping the ante. It seemed Blood Quills simply weren't doing their job.

What she hadn't counted on was the Hogwarts' chaotic and ever-changing layout. Under normal conditions, getting from the library to Minerva's office took about five minutes, over three sets of staircases and through the set of corridors. When Dolores was added as a variable, the journey actually lasted ten minutes, and with today's horrible luck… well.

She cast for what felt millionth _Tempus_ charm in the past half an hour, cursing up a storm. She had managed to get lost somewhere in the labyrinthine corridors of the mostly abandoned wing on the fourth floor, where the second staircase took her after moving from its usual path.

"Dolores!" A scandalized female voice halted her litany of curses. "You're _in school!_ "

Dolores whirled around and came face to face with the very person she was looking for.

"Minerva!" she simpered, too relieved she was no longer alone to properly register a flash of annoyance on her colleague's face. "I was just looking for you!"

Minerva raised her eyebrow. "Indeed? Then you must've gotten quite lost on your way - you're practically on the other end of the castle and one floor above my office."

Dolores spluttered for a moment before calming down. "Ah - the staircase were moving rather _erratically_ recently, and seemed quite eager to buck people off of them."

Minerva levelled her with an Unimpressed Glare™. "What in the world are you talking about, Dolores? The staircases never move erratically enough to buck people off. And what would be so important for you to seek me in my office?"

Dolores couldn't believe her ears. It only happened to her? Potter's smirk flashed in front of her eyes.

"Potter," she hissed, and Minerva's eyebrow climbed up even higher.

"What about Mr. Potter?"

"I would like to lodge a complaint and assign him a detention due to his unruly behavior," Dolores gritted out, a horrible feeling growing in her gut.

Minerva crossed her arms. "And why would you need to say that to me?"

"Because he left before I could assign it for lying to me!"

"Dolores," Minerva's voice was dripping with impatience, "children lie all the time, and in most cases, we do not bother investigating it. Ethically speaking, lying may be wrong, but until a child breaks the rules or gets caught in the lie, we cannot prove he or she's lying. There's no point in assigning Mr. Potter a detention."

"But -but -" Dolores spluttered, caught unaware. Was Minerva _protecting_ Potter? That was certainly going down in her report to Cornelius!

"But _nothing_ , Dolores. Leave it be." With that, Minerva whirled around and strode off, head high, leaving Dolores to fume and jog on her stubby legs as she tried to keep up with her older colleague.

* * *

Severus was in the middle of chopping up some valerian roots for the Sleep Draught when the rather insistent knocking sounded through his lab.

"Master Snape, there is a Miss Umbridge waiting at the door", Albert called from his portrait.

"Her again?" Severus sighed and cast a preservation and statis charms on the half-finished potions and the roots. "Let her in, but tell her to wait, I need to wash my hands." Dolores had been visiting him with the alarming frequency in the past three weeks - something about their mutual dislike for the students in general.

Severus called bull. He didn't particularly _like_ the snotty brats, but he had the job of making them ready for the adult life so he did his best to impart at least some basics of potion brewing - it wasn't his fault if they were dunderheads!

The wretched woman, on the other hand, did not deserve the _title_ of a teacher with her absolute refusal to teach the students anything useful in her classes, and was outright repulsive in her brownnosing to that fool Fudge. He would've liked to think she was some foolish Hufflepuff, but unfortunately she had been a Slytherin, and Slytherins stuck together no matter what, even if he found said Slytherin utterly infuriating.

After thoroughly washing his hands and wasting as much time as he could on it, he joined the Umbridge woman in the sitting room area.

"Severus!" she greeted him breathlessly, cheeks rosy and eyes unfocused.

"Madam Umbridge," Severus drawled, sinking into the chair. "Tea?"

"Dolores," she corrected, "and something stronger."

Severus raised an eyebrow but obliged, fetching the glasses and Firewhiskey with the flick of his wand.

"It's the Potter boy!" Umbri- _Dolores_ explained as she downed the glass.

Severus did not have to fake the grimace. Potter was the very definition of a troublemaker, and his and his friends' antics had managed to drive _Albus Dumbledore_ to drinking, a feat Severus knew only the Dark Lord managed when he opened the Chamber of Secrets in 1942.

"What did he do now?"

"Oh the usual," Umb-Dolores hiccuped. "Lying to me, pranking me so I would get hopelessly lost, turning Minerva against me… I managed to get lost _in the dungeons -_ I was that upset, and I used to live here, Severus!"

"Indeed." The tally was _quite_ impressive, Severus had to admit. However… "Couldn't you just give him a detention?"

"No," U-Dolores shook her head. "He ran off before I realized he lied to me, I don't know where he is, and Minerva refuses to see reason and _accept my complaint_."

"It's how things run here, Dolores," Severus agreed, infusing as much sincerity as he could. "Potter pulling off most outrageous stunts and Minerva and Headmaster covering for him."

"Well, then it's a good thing I'm here to change it."She slammed the glass down and rose from her seat. "I must be off - the reports, you know."

"Of course," Severus breathed through his nose. "Let me see you out."

Dolores waved off his offer. "No need Severus: you must have your own share of work to do, and I would only impose my luck on you."

"Your luck?" Severus asked delicately, everything suddenly clicking together. _He managed it?! That little…_

"Oh, just the staircases misbehaving slightly," Dolores giggled girlishly. "I got lost at least thrice in the last two hours. I'll be fine - Hogwarts never particularly liked me."

 _Wonder why's that_ , Severus thought vindictively as he closed the doors after his colleague.

"Potter!"

The shout looked like it was directed to the castle's walls. After a few minutes, a small wooden doors materialized in the back of Severus' sitting room, and Potter stepped through them grinning like a madman.

"Yes, sir?"

Severus shook his head. "I must say Potter, I should've known better than to think anything's impossible for you."

"Merely improbable," Potter agreed. "So, did I win?"

Severus made a face, but a deal was a deal. "25 points to Gryffindor, for sheer audacity and cunning worthy of my House when dealing with Madam Umbridge."

Potter smirked then frowned.

"The deal was 30 points, _sir_."

"5 points off were for forcing me to deal with her, _brat_ ," Severus deadpanned. "Run before I decide it wasn't enough!"


End file.
